nostatic at all...

At least we hope so. Another 11 hour day of shooting. Funny how some people don't understand that "rolling!" and "action!" mean to be quiet on the set. I suppose that's what happens when your soundstage isn't quite a soundstage...

No not plane (or trains or automobiles), but the rough cuts. Up for review by the powers that be. I hope we got it right this time. Otherwise I'll do it again. But I won't be happy, and my director *really* won't be happy.

waiting for my closeup

That Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play...

No, that isn't it. Instead one of the most famous photos in history, and events that changed the world.

The boy, backing up poetry readings and an original play. All improvised, and the first time he ever played with the guitarist. He's certainly ahead of my pace at that age...

Still learning to point, not aim. Five rounds of #3 shot @ 7m.

There is no free lunch...

Remington 870, 18" barrel, #3 shot, 5 rounds, 7m - quarter for reference

Browning Buckmark .22lr, 8 rounds, 7m - dime for reference

First via motor, then via legs, it was a 2-wheel day. No complaints.

A collection of one-offs and dynamic tension. Or something.

Dodging bullets, a literal translation, manifestation
Going your own way, i couldn't get it right
Seeking asylum in a litany of lies and
inconvenient truths
i can't find my way home

inkling verboten, prejudice verkaufen
i'm in disgrace, show your face
lose the race, i'm faster
on the stratocaster, playing
fast and furious, aren't you curious
about my leaning tower

squeezing through the slats
instead of butting heads
between the ocean and the sea
could it be
and ending, pretending
just pay the fee

you spit your grenades,
i'll take .223
and send it down rage
don't cross me now
i've got my 12 and 6 covered
and i've got a lover
who won't drive me crazy
but i'm lazy, the kid's spacey
go tell Lacy, that i need some more coffee

it's what's for dinner. And breakfast. And lunch.

Actually a quite beautiful place - if you like the high desert. Luckily I do, though I didn't get to blow anything up. Maybe next time...

High desert, not Joshua Tree. I could tell you where, but...well, you know...

Over...and over...and over...

Music on the horizon? Need something to offset the madness. Food is good food, and if you're lucky, you can fine a red streamliner to climb upon...

Red streamliner rollin'
rollin' down the track the things you see
With your wheels in motion through desert, mountain, ocean
I hear you every night, is it a dream?

Me, the boy...everyone. Cranky. It's what's for dinner.

Ack! Need plot arc! Need concept! Need cycles to work on it! Red perspective, here we come...

Gotta love arriving at an airport at 2359. And being 3 hours off-time. Luckily DC is a late night town, so dinner at a diner can be had at 0200. Of course when you have to get up at 0700...

One thing about traveling to/from DC is that you never know who'll show up. On the flight back to LA, I ended up sitting next to a Congressman from NY. Turns out we have some things in common (musicians) and my work is for the military while he's on Veteran's Affairs committees. Small world - never know how/where/when connections get made.

But if you blink, you might miss it...

Kodak announced that Kodachrome is no more. Farewell to another analog artifact - we barely knew ya...

When I think back
On all the crap I learned in high school
It's a wonder
I can think at all
And though my lack of edu---cation
Hasn't hurt me none
I can read the writing on the wall

An odd double dose. Finally back into the studio (rehearsal) for some live music with Sam the Man. A smattering of the usual "sad bastard" tunes, along with some jazz standards from the 40's. And earlier in the evening, a viewing of Roy Scheider in perhaps his best role, doing the Fosse-thing in "All That Jazz." Why am I such a fan of the black absurdist genre (Brazil comes to mind)? I'm sure I can come up with a theory for that...

Nothing like some opinionated experts. One named Todd even. Who knew? I'm beginning to see some patterns though, and it is all about pattern recognition.

And I have to say that I'm not really all that broken up about it.

An odd confluence of plots and twists and timings. After the disturbing viewing of Syriana and resulting loss of sleep, bookends provided by John Huston. And interestingly enough, two films with similar messages and approaches though set in very different places and made some 20 years apart. Last week was "Treasure of Sierra Madre," and tonight, "The Man Who Would Be King." Both cautionary tales of greed and imperialism, moral relativism, god-impersonation, and the best intentions laid to waste.

And just to cap it off, the musing of Becker and Fagan on the subject.

Apologies to Mr. Nelson, but I certainly can wait to get on the road again. If only work could wait.

A night in the studio (rehearsal) playing with old friends and people I don't know. Thanks to Pepsi for keeping the boy going past 11pm. Though not too far past...

Six months and a lot of hard work. A LOT. But online on-time.

Leaving, but not Las Vegas. Don't forget to leave a light on...